Tin Soldier
by chizry
Summary: COMPLETED. In response to a challenge. The tin soldier and the ballet dancer melted into a heart...duty had called and now was as good a time as any. AU.
1. Red Tin

**Title: **Tin Soldier  
**Rating:** G  
**Disclaimer:** Alliance Atlantis and CBS will not have to go to war with me; I'm just commanding their troops for a little bit.  
**A/N:** Even though most of my relatives have been in the military, I actually don't know anything about it except for what I learned from friends in ROTC. So, if anything's wrong...sorry in advance. In response to a challenge:  
1. Greg and Sara have a stronger friendship.  
2. One day Greg decides he needs to do something else with his life.  
3. So he joins or gets recruited into: the army, the navy, air force, or military (pick one)  
4. An informant or superior from one of the above comes to the crime lab to give Greg information and get other needed info about training and etc., shocking the entire lab.  
5. Every member of the team has their own reaction (you choose their reactions) and tries to confront Greg into staying.  
6. What is Sara's reaction? Can she get him to stay along with the rest of the team? How will the story end?  
7. MUST USE characters: Greg, Sara, Grissom, Cath, Warrick, Nick, Archie, Bobby D., and Hodges.  
8. Greg/Sara friendship or Greg/Sara MUST END Greg/Sara  
9. any rating

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Lining up the metal figurines in rows of five, he smiled as they were all in place.

Shiny and sharp in their carefully detailed uniforms, the tin soldiers stood straight and tall.

Taking a few minutes to look at them, he took and swept them all back into a red tin.

Closing the lid, he stashed it with his bag of Blue Hawaiian coffee, hidden beneath his pillow.

Not noticing that a white tag had fallen off, he disappeared out of the tent.

Slowly, the paper fluttered to the dirt floor, revealing the words "Melt My Heart".

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Blood-stained clothes and dirt-trodden shoes covered the top of the metal table.

"You were captain of the chess team?" The brunette teased as the two of them pored laboriously over evidence. In turn, her messy-haired friend flushed red. She smiled her gap-tooth grin. It was always adorable to watch Greg be embarrassed.

"Chess _squad_, Sara, chess _squad,_" Greg put emphasis on the word squad. He pouted, Sanders-style. "There's a difference."

Sara gave a nonchalant shrug. "Same difference."

He shook his head. "No, no, no, you've got it all wrong. See, chess team sounds so...geeky. The kind with the pocket protectors and funky glasses."

Rolling her eyes, she gave him a friendly poke in the ribs. "So what, you're not a science geek?" She smirked. "Don't tell me you aren't, because I know for fact that you were in the Science Club in high school. What were you in?"

"Ballet." Sara replied shortly.

Greg grinned. "A dancer? Didn't figure you were the kind who liked pink and tulle."

If looks could kill, he would have been six-feet under and decomposed. As it was, he was still alive and healthy, much to Sara's current annoyance. "I'm not. One of my foster parents forced me to join. Not one of my better memories, believe me."

"Oh." Not knowing what to say, he decided to boost his ego. "I wasn't all geek you know." Seeing the smirk on her face from his admittance, he added, "I also joined ROTC."

"Huh?" Confusion etched itself in Sara's eyes.

Glancing at her in surprise, Greg wrinkled his forehead. "You mean to tell me that you've never heard of ROTC? Man, what school did you go to?"

A small frown crossed her face. "Too many to count." She muttered, determined to look anywhere but at him.

Silence settled tensely over the layout room.

It was a few minutes before either of them spoke. "Sorry. Didn't mean it." Greg muttered guiltily. Five years and only recently had she told him about her family. All that time and nearly every week he was being loud and proud of his own.

Anyway, if anybody have told him about her parents, he would've kept silent. One buried six feet under and one locked between two-inch steel bars...he really did feel sorry for her.

Him and his big mouth.

"S'alright." She murmured, putting her attention back on the case. After a moment, she sighed and leaned forward on the table. "Ugh. We're not getting anywhere. Setting down her flashlight, Sara tore off her rubber gloves and left the room. "I'll be back. I need a nap."

No more than thirty seconds after she left, their supervisor came in. "Anything new on the Collins case?" Grissom peered anxiously at Greg, clipboard clutched tightly in his hand.

"Nothing at all." Greg stepped back from the table to look at him.

Quirking an eyebrow, Grissom tilted his head to the side. "Where's Sara?"

The former lab-rat shrugged. "Break room, I guess. Enjoying her dreamland."

"Wake her up. We need everyone to finish up this case."

"But..we already pulled a triple!" Greg protested. "Even Cath's gone home already."

"Catherine has Lindsay. You don't. So that means, you work."

Glaring a little, Greg huffed. "All work and no play makes Greg a dull boy."

His boss looked at him sternly. "All play and no work makes Greg an unemployed boy."

Getting the point, Greg nodded. "Yes, sir." Mocking a salute, he watched as Grissom walked down the hallway to find Sara.

The former labrat frowned. What play?

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"I'm here to see..." The man in the black suit and tie looked down at his open file marked 'Confidential'. "A Mr. Gregory Sanders."

Judy looked up in surprise. Usually, it was Grissom who recieved the bossy no-nonsense authority figures. This one even had the traditional black sunglasses, despite the fact that the lab was considerably dark. "Uh...yes, sir. Who shall I say is visiting?"

Flashing an impressive-looking badge, the blonde receptionist glanced at him and nodded. "Yes, sir." She picked up the phone and dialed a number.

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By the time Greg reached the lobby, there was quite a crowd-hiding behind glass windows, stopping and staring, and even Archie was watching with ill-concealed interest.

"Lieutenant, sir." Snapping into form, he gave a salute, much to the shock of the rookie lab techs looking on.

"You've been selected for training, rookie." The mysterious lieutenant handed over a sheet of papers and nodded. "At ease. You are to look over these papers for information on your training sessions." He paused, pulling out a lone piece of paper from his briefcase. "And-your draft notice."

Warrick, Catherine, and Sara, who had finally reached the commotion, stopped dead at the military officer's words. Hodges just stared.

Giving one last final nod, the lieutenant turned on his heels and walked back onto the elevator.

Once the silver doors had closed, the lab erupted into gossip and talk.

"I didn't know you were in the military, Greggo," Nick commented as the graveyard shift team surrounded their youngest member.

Greg shrugged. "Was in the ROTC program in Cali."

"Ah. The Reserved Officer's Training Corps." Catherine nodded knowingly. "Men in uniform."

Warrick gave a derisive snort. "Something impressive about guys in uniform, huh?" The strawberry blonde shot him a dirty look and elbowed him sharply in the ribs.

Archie shook his head. "So you're going to Iraq?"

Fighting his way through the crowd, Bobby stopped at the group. "What's this about the military?" He jerked a thumb over his shoulder toward one of the techs. "Janet said something about Greg being a soldier."

Shifting umcomfortably under the stares, Greg nodded. "Uh...yeah. I got drafted."

Grissom glanced at him. "I didn't know you were in the military, Greg."

He shrugged. "Uh...high school thing."

"High school thing." Grissom shot him an incredulous look over his glasses.

"Uh...yeah."

Seeing as they weren't getting anywhere, Catherine switched the subject. "So...you're not going, right?" She said with an inquisitive stare.

Greg frowned. "What do you mean? They call me, I go. Sorta illegal if I don't."

A dry laugh escaped Warrick's lips. "He's got a point there, Cath."

Nick chuckled with the dark-skinned CSI, but Sara was far from amused. "Not funny. We're losing Greg here."

Grissom nodded. "Sara's right." Turning to Greg, he said, "We can't afford to lose you."

Fiddling with his ID, the CSI in question shrugged. "Come on, you guys, it's not like I'm going to die over there," he joked. His joke fell flat as he was met with somber stares.

"You can't go to war and die among strangers." Sara pleaded in vain. "Come on. I'm sure the feds will understand."

Bobby shook his head. "Not unless it's a medical excuse or he's in school. Which Greg here is neither. So..." The statement hung in the air, and everyone but Nick, Sara, and Catherine left Greg standing in the middle of the hallway.

Refusing to meet Sara's eyes, Greg just stared down at the floor.

In unexplained fury, Sara stomped off, brown hair flying behind her. With concern, Nick gave Greg an awkward pat on the back and followed his best friend. Catherine just sighed heavily.

She picked up the draft notice that Greg had unknowingly dropped and just held it in her hands.

This was not good at all. Not good at all.

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Walking in, Sara noticed that a box was sitting on the bench, filled nearly to the brim with all of his stuff. Tears pricked at the corners her eyes, blurring the image of his face appearing from behind his locker door.

"Ah, Sara. Just the lady I wanted to see," he smiled. It faded when she didn't return it.

Sighing, she leaned against the row of lockers. "I can't stop you from going, can I?" The question was more of a statement.

He shook his head, then gently walked over and swept her into a hug.

"Gonna miss you."

She smiled through her tears, returning the hug. Just as quickly, she stepped back and faced his locker, seeing it nearly empty. Turning to face him, she heaved another sigh.

"Just write us..." Here, her voice croaked, and she cleared her throat. "Write us. All the time. Okay?" She gave him a surprise peck on the cheek, and he blushed.

One last hug, and she disappeared out of the locker room.

He stood there for a minute, staring after her, then turned back to his open locker.

Frowning, he picked up the shiny red metal tin stashed in the corner of it.

Where'd this come from?


	2. Melted Heart

It was different, having to use a gun everyday.

There was a time where he had never shot one in his life, but here he was now, killing for a profession.

Back where he was still innocent and happy, catching those who were killing was a profession.

Heavy sooty blasts, bursts of red flame, they seared his mind. Grey dust settled, covering the marks of a disaster.

Gunfire exploded, and it rang in his ears.

It kept on ringing.

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They knew what had happened before the black envelope had even reached them.

It was a terrible tragedy, they had said.

He was a hero, one who fought for the nation's freedom.

Those were just words, everbody knew. Just a way to get rid of the guilt that one more American wasn't coming home.

They only wished it wasn't him, hoped it wasn't...but it was too late to dream.

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Rain fell down heavily on that dreaded day, the sky pouring its tears upon the sea of black.

Hiding their tears, the rain only masked their sorrow with its own.

One by one, they dropped roses, mostly yellow or white ones.

She dropped a red one, blood-stained color against the pale flowers.

The solid cherry box dropped into the ground, bringing the gentle petals with it. Methodically, a man in worn overalls poured shoveled dirt over the coffin. Everyone watched as it spilled to the sides, then drifted away in pairs and groups to their cars.

Except her.

Sitting in the rain, she looked out over the field of graves, lined perfectly with names painstakingly etched into stone.

Waiting until all the soil had pushed him six feet under, she got up and pulled a small brown package from underneath the folds of her coat. On the label read "To: Sara Sidle" with a tear-stained address. Opening the package, she pulled out a red tin.

Removing the lid, shed noticed that the heat had melted the soldiers into a heart. A little misshapen but a heart all the same. She closed the tin, and sighed quietly.

Gently, she laid the tin in front of the headstone and read the words.

"Greg Sanders - 1975 to 2005. Brother, friend, colleague."

In her mind, she added the word "Lover".


End file.
